‘When?’
Seb looked at her. Forcing her to answer.
‘A while ago.’
‘Where?’
‘A registry office.’
‘A registry office? Oh, Sebastian.’ His mother looked appalled. ‘Let me guess, no witnesses, no guests, no party. You’ve never had the celebration.’ She tutted. ‘Never had the first dance.’
‘It wasn’t something that interested either of us,’ Ana muttered.
‘Sebastian, how could you?’
‘Quite easily.’ He finally spoke. Cooler than Arctic waters. ‘I figured you and Dad have had enough weddings between you. You didn’t need me to add another to the calendar.’
Ana looked at the expression in his mother’s eyes and for the first time realised that their mess of a marriage might actually hurt someone other than herself. This was the woman’s son—her only child—and she was finding out about his wife for the first time at her ex-husband’s latest wedding. It must be a bit of a shock.
‘Will you excuse me a moment?’ Another bathroom trip was definitely in order. To give them a moment. To escape from the energy she could feel in Seb—the angry energy.
Mistake. Big, big mistake.
He was waiting for her when she emerged and she didn’t have the courage to look at him.
‘I thought we were going to keep the details under wraps,’ he said a little too quietly.
Ana knew the colour in her cheeks was deliriumfever red—and only deepening. ‘Well, Cassie was digging her elbows into me as she tried to plaster her breasts all over you.’
His lips were firmly pressed together. Too firmly. After a silence that stretched Ana’s nerves to utter defence mode he finally spoke again. Still soft, still dangerous. ‘You’re not jealous, are you, Ana?’
The woman was blonde and petite and beautiful. Of course she was jealous. Not just jealous but threatened, insecure and apparently capable of a lioness-like display of alpha-girl territorial behaviour. Since when did she do that? And yet her claws itched to be unsheathed again just at the thought of the woman. Not that Ana wanted to admit to any of it. ‘I…er…’
‘I’ve never been interested in Cassie,’ Seb said evenly. ‘She’s the daughter of my father’s friend. I’ve known her most of my life and I’ve never even kissed her.’
‘Although I’m sure you’ve had the opportunity.’ Ana just had to dig.
‘Sure. But I didn’t take them.’
Them? As in more than one opportunity? So the vixen had been hunting him for a while, had she? Ana’s claws sharpened enough to cut more efficiently than a diamond-tipped blade.
Seb stepped closer. Took hold of her chin in firm fingers and made her look at him. To her surprise it was amusement glowing in the depths of his eyes, not anger. And while his voice was still low, it was threaded with a half-laugh that made her spine go scarily soft.
‘If I wanted to I would have a long time ago. I didn’t want to then, don’t want to now, won’t ever want to. Satisfied?’
The guilt was sloshing around inside with an unusually large dose of embarrassment. But there was a warm twist of pleasure too—and, yes, satisfaction. Then the embarrassment gained supremacy. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mumbled. ‘I’ll leave. I can just sneak away.’
‘No, you can’t,’ he said calmly. ‘You have to smile your way through this as I do. It’s your fault for announcing our marriage so smoothly. You were the one who insisted we come. I’d have skipped it altogether.’
‘I didn’t want to come. I just wanted you to.’
He shook his head and pulled her wrap from her shoulders, baring her arm, and her body in the silk dress.
‘What are you doing?’ She reached for it but he tossed it onto the nearest chair—grabbed her by the arm to stop her following it.
‘I think the least you can do is give me something good to look at.’
‘Seb.’
His smile was wicked. ‘Ana, what you and I need to do is make the best of a bad situation.’
Somehow she got through the dinner. The jokes. The speeches. Smiling hard, she watched the cake being cut. Finally it was the first dance. A few songs after that she was sure they’d then be able to leave. Ana watched the couple walk to the middle of the floor. Heard Seb groan as the musicians struck a few chords.
‘It’s a snowball,’ he muttered.
‘Snowball?’
Seb shot her a pained look. ‘Not up with wedding traditions, are you?’
Ana watched, mystified, as the couple began to waltz. She couldn’t see the problem; they looked sweet. And then the musicians seemed to pause—holding the note. The bride left her husband’s arms and went and got Seb. While his father went and got her brides-maid—then another chorus of the waltz was played and the two new couples danced. Another pause. Seb went to his mother and the others found new partners. They waltzed round the room for another chorus. Then came the pause again. And Seb walked to her.